


Battle of the Holidays

by Duckgomery



Series: This Old House [12]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Gen, Holidays, also revelation, did anyone see this coming?, is it really going to be what everyone is thinking?, sad times with Pitch and Jamie, yeah - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-09
Updated: 2013-04-09
Packaged: 2017-12-07 23:44:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/754483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duckgomery/pseuds/Duckgomery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The holidays were a time for family to spend together.</p><p>Yeah right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Battle of the Holidays

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry it's been awhile, uni work has been taking up a decent junk of time and due to other issues transpiring I was feeling a little uninspired.  
> This part was hard to write, I knew how I wanted to end it, just had no idea on how to get there so hopefully it came out alright in the end.  
> Three more parts to go at this stage.  
> Woooooooooo
> 
> Kalael is the best, just wow. Check out the link for her fic, Marrow, at the bottom of the page. It's a great look into Jack's thought process throughout this fic.  
> She's a fantastic person, just wow, ego boost.

                Summer was well in swing and the little peculiarities that made up Jack Frost were starting to surface in full swing.

                For one, his apparent disregard for dressing according to the weather.

                Now, his apparent disregard, some even say aversion to footwear became more accepted by those who knew him. It was hot, and those who did still wear footwear tended to wear either light or even open shoes. Jack’s usually unseasonal flip-flops and more often than not, bare-feet, could be looked over.

                Despite the heat, much to everyone’s concern was the choice in his apparel.

                Despite the heat that struck down, both day and night, Jack never wore anything other than his standard combo of jeans and either a long sleeved shirt or, more often than not, a hoody.

                Just looking at him made the other’s simply sweat, but Jack hardly looks phased, if anything, the only signs of the heat affecting him was an added sense of lethargy, though everyone simply attributed that to the heat.

                Misdiagnosis at its finest.

                Alas, there were more pressing matters than Jack’s seasonally inappropriate wardrobe.

                A unanimous decision had to be made.

                Aster and North were both adamant in their own choices on the matter, neither willing to back down.

                This left Tooth, Pitch, Sandy,  and Jack to watch the two bicker, tired expressions etched on all four faces.

                It had been three days, they could care less on which destination was chosen at this stage, anything to make the two stop.

                Usually Tooth would have long since pulled the two apart and scolded them for acting like children. Lucky for the two, school had finished for the year, meaning that Tooth was busy trying to not be a teacher. She’d still shoot disapproving glares, and shake her head at them, but interference was yet to happen.

                It wasn’t far off though.

                Not far off at all.

                To be honest, it was one of the many things that the occupants had become desensitised to.

                Aster and North could often come to agreement on most any things, they were quite chummy for the most part, but when it came to the holidays, watch out. The two had very different opinions on the setting, and of course, which one was more superior.

                Jack had long since gotten bored with watching, opting instead to lean back on the wooden chair, feet propped up on the table, and text.

                He had events to be updated on after all.

                He bet that none of his friends, or Jamie, had to put up with close to the amount of idiocy he was subjected to.

                Pitch too had pulled out his phone for lack of anything better to do.

                Jack’s status acquired two likes within that minute.

                With a final roll of her eyes, Tooth left the kitchen, opting to brave the heat upstairs rather than sit by and watch two grown men squabble, and the remaining two snicker like pre-teen girls.

                She did not finish the school year to be subjected to a summer of it in close quarters.

                Luckily, when Sandy walked into the house that night, a solution was provided.

                A compromise if you will.

                As opposed to the beach (Aster’s choice) or the ski slopes (North’s), Sandy was pleased to announce that he had just secured a lake house for the summer.

                Tooth loved the fact that it shut the other two up.

                Aster loved that it was out in the wilderness.

                Pitch loved that there was power, an internet connection, and the atmosphere the surrounding woods would be sure to provide, especially in the later hours.

                North loved that it was away from the hustle and bustle of the city they lived in.

                Jack was uncharacteristically quiet, but he smiled none the less.

                The decision had been made.

…

                “I’m only saying it because it’s true, Jack! I love you, you know that, but I just can’t keep standing by and watching you become worse and worse. No, stop, don’t, Jack! Come back, running isn’t going to help you. Please, just, promise me you’ll think about it. Jack?”

                Jack slammed the door behind him, effectively shutting Jamie out of sight.

                He ignored his boyfriend’s concerned and pleading tones, along with the curious eyes poking out of various rooms, drawn out by the noise.

                He kicked his bedroom door shut behind him and buried his head into his pillow.

                Jamie was wrong.

                He was perfectly fine.

…

                Pitch had shooed away any prying eyes and ears from the kitchen, leaving him and a distraught Jamie sitting down at the table, both cradling cups of coffee.

                Neither had taken a sip yet, despite the minutes having ticked by, and the steam near gone.

                Despite being stunned to say the least when Jack had revealed that he lived with the author that he worshipped with a passion, over the period of dating Jack, Pitch had taken on a more realistic, human role for Jamie.

                Jack never talked about his actual family, but the way Jamie saw his eyes soften when he talked about stuff Pitch had done, or Pitch had said, it was that of a son who honestly loved his father.

                Jamie was happy to see the same sort of softness in Pitch’s eyes when he spoke about Jack, even if it was in the aftermath of a shovel talk.

                Pitch was patient with the silence that stretched on between them, and that Jamie appreciated.

                Father’s hated to be told there was something wrong with their kid after all.

                “Have you noticed?”

                Jamie knew it was a stupid question the moment it had passed his lips.

                Pitch stiffened momentarily before slumping down, melting into the chair.

                “I’m a writer, it’s my job to notice subtle actions, as much as I don’t want to at times.”

                “How long?”

                Mere moments stretched on for hours despite being mere seconds.

                “Too long.”

                They both took long draughts of the now barely lukewarm coffee in hand.

                “I know I should’ve said something, should’ve done something, but I didn’t want to. Because, if I did, that would mean that he’s sick, and I don’t want him to be sick, or hurting, because he’s not. He’s happy, smart, alive,”

                He takes a moment to catch himself, voice having broken the air he usually holds.

                Jamie saw the tears in the grown man’s eyes, eyes that had cried too much and yet too little. Eyes that had seen people dance and fall and never get up.

                He remembered when he was younger, when his mum had taken him and Sophie to the hospital to visit their grandmother. When they had gotten home, she had sat him down while Sophie ran off to do god knows what, and told him that Grandma was going to go to sleep soon and not wake up, and suddenly the extended goodbye she made them take part in, with all the hugs and parting words they could muster made sense to him.

                Pitch’s eyes reminded him of the young nurse who’d been standing outside the hallway throughout the exchange.

                “I just don’t want to lose anyone else.”

                Unable to hold himself together anymore, Pitch lets out a sob.

                Jamie does what his dad did after his mum got the phone call from the hospital.

                He walks over to Pitch’s quaking form, and wraps his arms around the man whose written works had their own shelf.

 

                Jamie had left a few hours before, sadly looking up at the stairs as he and Pitch walked to the front door. With few parting words, the boy headed off home and Pitch went down to his room.

                He sat at his desk, not even bothering to give the illusion of doing work. He was at a loss.

                So it was these few hours later that someone padded down to his room, closing the door as softly as possible behind them.

                Pitch heard a rustling from his bed.

                He only knew one person who would be so bold as to steal his bed right from under his nose.

                “Jamie’s not mad, more worried than anything. Give him a call, or at the least let him know that you haven’t broken up or whatever you kids call it these days.”

                The springs in the old bed creak as Jack wiggles into a more or less comfortable position.

                “And here I was thinking that you’d always be on my side, oh the betrayal.”

                Pitch lets out a light snort.

                “What can I say, he’s a sweet kid, don’t know what he’s doing with a thug like you.”

                “This is what I get for going out with one of your fan-boys, isn’t it? That’s the truth of the situation, you ego maniac. I’m on to you.” Jack laughs out a warning.

                The atmosphere, though now warm and somewhat more comfortable, still has something that needs addressing, a thorn in their feet.

                “Pitch?”

                “Yes Jack?”

                “Remember that IOU?”

                “I did promise anything within reason.”

                “I think I want to cash it in.”

…

                “Hurry up and get to car, time is wasting.” North calls out from the garage entrance, his oversized red truck loaded up with enough provisions to last a scout troop for months.

                “Hold your horses, you geezer. Some of us are trying to make sure that we haven’t forgotten anything.” Aster shouts down from the second floor. Despite having the air of an outdoors man, he was rather anxious without the modern comforts that the times had bestowed upon him.

               Mainly batteries.

               He did not want to have North running around with open flames, or Pitch insisting on telling campfire stories.

               Not again.

               At long last everything was packed, and those not already waiting restlessly in the garage had joined those who had been.

               “Why does Jack get to go with Pitch while I’m stuck with that maniac?” Bunny whines, seeing the pale boy smiling from the embrace of his seat, complete with actual seatbelt.

               “As I said, the only way to get everything to fit was to chuck stuff in the front seat, and Jack is the only one able to contort himself into a position to manage that,” Pitch responds dryly.

               “And because I have a bright future. Gotta look out for us bringers of tomorrow, don’t you, old man?” Jack calls out, laughter shortly following.

               Pitch rolls his eyes in exasperation before looking over to Aster.

               “Look at what you’re missing, Aster. Be grateful.” Pitch sighs dramatically before sliding into the driver seat.

               “I’ll see you down there,” was all Pitch offered before he drove out and away.

               No-one thought anything of it.

 

                “Hey.”

                “Yes, Jack?”

                “Thanks, for everything.”

                The scenery flashed past but was lost to both of them, more pressing matters on their minds.

                “What can I say, I owed you.”

 

                Sooner than both of them would have liked, they pulled into the parking lot of the clinic.

                Jack looked over to Pitch, eyes wide and terrified, a kid on his first day of school.

                Pitch takes the boys hand in his own, finally acknowledging how small and brittle it felt.

                They take as long as they need before leaving the care and checking Jack in, both wanting to make the most of this shared moment.

                Who knew how long it’d be before it’d happen again.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Marrow](https://archiveofourown.org/works/755422) by [Kalael](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalael/pseuds/Kalael)




End file.
